There once was a duckling that was different from the others.
He had a lump on his chest, unlike all his brothers.
The other ducklings would tease him and be really mean.
They would treat him like dirt: something unclean.
When the others were mean, he would cower with fear,
wishing they’d all grow lumps or that his would disappear.
The fates, it seems, can be rather vicious
because what follows is an account of how he got both his wishes.
You see, the lump was a sack filled with alien spawn
that needed a place to grow and flesh to feed on.
When they were done growing, they burst forth from the darkness,
leaving the poor duckling as a blood drenched carcass.
The aliens caught the other ducklings and buried in deep,
and, one by one, the ducks fell asleep.
When they awoke, as you may well have guessed,
each one of the ducklings had a new lump on its chest.
Listen to me read it here: